


Magical Pride

by Miraphina Atherton (mew_tsubaki)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Fluff, also happy pride everyone, cameo from a necessary couple btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24363079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mew_tsubaki/pseuds/Miraphina%20Atherton
Summary: Morag is skeptical when Romilda insists they go out one sunny summer day, divulging nothing along the way. *done forhprarepairneton tumblr*
Relationships: Morag MacDougal/Romilda Vane
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Magical Pride

**Author's Note:**

> The Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not to me. Stunningly, an idea that hadn't occurred to me before. XD Read, review, and enjoy! *Done for the biweekly prompt (minor Ravenclaw ships) for hprarepairnet on tumblr.*

"You know you can't hog the vanity the entire morning!" Romilda yowled on the other side of the bathroom door.

Morag grinned, cheekily, at her reflection in the mirror. "Of course I can. That's well within the realm of possibility, Romilda."

She heard her girlfriend huff and tap her foot out in the hallway. "Morag. MacDougal."

That intonation made Morag look skyward. Romilda had been one to toe the line when it came to school rules back in the day; post-war, Romilda had no problem using the occasional headmistress tone they'd all experienced as McGonagall had built Hogwarts back up to what it should've been. And that tone forced Morag to stop fiddling with her hair and wave her wand to dry the rest of her dark locks magically. Then she threw open the door. "Yes?"

In spite of the tone, Romilda was grinning. "Oh, good Godric. You're the only witch I know who will spend an hour on her hair and have it look the exact same way it does every day."

Morag shrugged. "Don't knock it if you rock it."

Romilda laughed. "What does that even mean…?"

"You tell me," the older witch remarked as she led Romilda back to the tiny living space she rented. It felt tiny because it _was_ tiny: Her sofa unfolded to become her bed, and the kitchenette was directly behind that. There wasn't even a closet—she had to make do with a single chest of drawers. The only luxury in this place was the full bathroom. As a whole, this flat felt so tiny, especially with Morag living here on her own this past year, after having returned to Hogwarts for an eighth year of academics.

But, somehow, tiny felt cozy and _right_ whenever Romilda visited.

Thoughts cycling back 'round to her, Morag quirked an eyebrow at Romilda. "By the way, you talk of my 'hogging' the vanity as if it's yours."

Romilda's grin impossibly grew. "I've been over loads of times, and I plan to keep that up now that I'm done with school."

Morag opened her mouth and promptly shut it—her heart wasn't ready and yet nevertheless felt primed to burst with the excitement over the idea of Romilda moving in with her. "You never said what it is you have planned for us today, recall," Morag segued. She turned to her kitchenette to ensure it was tidy before they headed out.

The younger woman shook her head. "Can't tell you. It's a surprise."

"A surprise that requires denims and a bright white shirt?"

Romilda simply beamed at her in answer.

Morag narrowed her eyes at Romilda, feeling these "plans" were as dubious as one of Seamus' anti-Carrows shenanigans two years ago.

"Honest! It's going to be fab and nothing like you ever saw before!"

"Luv, you mean 'nothing as I ever have seen.'"

"The Queen's English aside"—Romilda tugged on her nearer hand, pulling her towards the door—" _c'mon_!"

No sooner were they out the door than Romilda brought them to an abrupt stop. She tucked Morag's arm in the crook of her left elbow and waited for her nod of consent. Then Romilda Disapparated, with Morag along for the ride.

Side-Along Apparition didn't bother Morag the way it did some of her contemporaries. She'd heard Harry and Ron always ended up nauseated, and she knew poor Padma turned literally green. But it only made Morag hungry, so she was relieved to see Romilda has whisked them away to the work-in-progress that was Diagon Alley.

"We're lucky to get here before the rush," Morag noted as they headed into Florean's. Fortescue was missed, of course, but thank Merlin for Marcus Belby stepping up to keep the ice-cream shop alive.

"Just a quick snack, though—where we're going, there will be some street vendors," Romilda informed her.

For the second time today, Morag raised one eyebrow her way. Street vendors? What on Earth…?

They ordered cones to go, Rainbow Ever-Shifting Glitter for Romilda and plain old Pumpkin Treacle for Morag, and then moved out onto the street for a stroll. It seemed to be the main highlight before their destination until Romilda began pulling miscellaneous items from her dress pockets and passing them to or placing them on Morag.

"Romilda, you're acting really strange—stranger than usual for you," Morag tacked on with a teasing chuckle. She shut her eyes while Romilda attempted to shove a hairband with springy bobs sprouting from it into Morag's thick mass of hair.

But Romilda didn't take the bait. She continued to decorate her girlfriend, pausing here and there to don a few strands of white beads and a couple of plastic bangles herself. Romilda even swapped out some of Morag's cuffs and studs. But, without a mirror, Morag had no idea what earrings she now wore.

"Romilda…," Morag began again. She passed the nub that was Romilda's ice-cream cone back to the freckled woman.

Romilda finished it in one bite and pointed in front of them. "We're heading out there."

Morag recognized Diagon Alley's exit into Muggle London. "What for?"

"Close your eyes and trust me."

Well, Morag had done that before, the night before the Final Battle, only to find that Romilda had given her first kiss to this ridiculous eagle witch with a puppy crush on her. So, so far, these were trustworthy words coming from Romilda Vane.

Morag did as told and kept her eyes shut tight even after half a beat when Romilda tugged her along again. Only when Romilda whispered with that delicious smile in her voice "All right, you can open your eyes now" did Morag take stock of her surroundings.

Before them was a sea of rainbow. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of people filled the streets before them, and the raucous occasion was a stream of people from all walks of life, wearing whatever they wanted and waving what seemed like every kind of colorful flag one could imagine. Every few dozen people, a banner stretched out: "London Mardi Gras."

Morag had read about these but never dreamt she'd be able to join in on a Pride parade.

Once her brain caught up with her, she dropped her gaze to herself. Her blue denim shorts were the same, but her white tennis shoes and her blouse had been spelled to turn shades of magenta and of orange, blurring one into the other with the odd dash of white here and there. The hairband and the heart bobs wiggling on it matched, and Morag deduced her jewelry matched, too.

Romilda was an equally colorful sight, and she twirled in her now pink-purple-blue dress. Her necklaces and bangles each represented those three colors.

"No bringing the flags, just wearing them instead?" Morag prompted, her grin as big as Romilda's now.

"Time to blend in!" Romilda nearly shouted as they approached the parade-goers. She twirled again and again, but now she refused to release Morag's hand, and they breathed in the proud life around them and exhaled glee and laughter.

As promised, some vendors had set up stalls along the parade route, and Morag and Romilda pulled away, breathless, to buy a fish-and-chips meal to share and a bottle of water each since the body heat more than made up for the lackluster sunbeams on this otherwise gorgeous day.

"We don't really have to walk the whole route," Romilda promised as they dragged their feet to a nearby bench to watch the parade continue on without them. "Honestly, I just wanted to experience this with you, even if only a little bit."

Morag nodded, cheeks flushed with appreciation for Romilda's consideration. "No, no, it's great…" She paused and glanced at the Gryffindor. "You changed our outfits with a spell. A nonverbal one."

Romilda preened and licked a flake of fish off her fingers. "I've been keeping that one in my pocket since the year before. I made a lot of headway in that department with Flitwick's help, actually. And I thought this would be a good day to debut that talent."

"Today _is_ a day full of surprises." Morag waited while they finished their early lunch and they wiped their hands on the throwaway napkins. Then she placed her hand on Romilda's thigh, but it wasn't a move. It was an appreciation of Romilda's dress—and what it meant. She raised her eyebrows again.

Under such scrutiny, Romilda fiddled with her outfit's hem, but she smiled. "The lesbian flag was an obvious choice for you."

"Obviously. I never understood the fascination in my year with the likes of Harry, Michael, or Dean."

Romilda chuckled. "Well, I did. But…I'm more than comfortable with you, too, Morag. You make me very happy. So…the bisexual flag clicked with me." She sat up straight, put a hand on her chest, and heaved a huge sigh of relief. "Merlin! It feels so good to say that at last!"

Morag's heart twinged. "I didn't know you'd been considering this at all, let alone so seriously."

"I felt I owed it to myself to do so. There's no use beating myself up for ever having had feelings for wizards _and_ witches. Better to understand myself, yeah?"

Morag wrapped an arm around Romilda's shoulders, the younger witch's curls tickling Morag's pale, bare arm. She pecked Romilda's temple. "It's the best," she agreed.

Romilda nodded. On that note, they stood together and threw away the food wrappings, falling back into step with the parade on the sidelines, even as things thinned out as the marchers marched on.

With more breathing space, they were better able to enjoy themselves. But mostly the comfort came from being amongst others who shared the same feelings they did. Romilda poked Morag in the chest at one point and gestured off to the left, and, speak of the devil, the witches _swore_ they saw Seamus Finnigan riding Dean Thomas' shoulders across the street, with Seamus waving what appeared to be a homemade rainbow flag. The sight was enough to send the women into peals of laughter.

Morag and Romilda slowed when they arrived at their second block turn. As the parade passed them by, Morag tugged Romilda back to her and nestled her against her front.

Romilda peered up at her. "Mor?"

Morag squeezed Romilda's middle and cocked her head to one side so Romilda had to look up at her diagonally. "Why not explain today's plans ahead of time? You didn't have to bother keeping it a secret, Romy."

But Romilda smiled gently and turned around in Morag's arms. She patted the older witch's cheek. "You know, there's some magic the Muggles have, which they can share with us." She hugged Morag, burying her face in Morag's chest. Romilda turned her face away to add on, "Isn't it nice to be _out_ and about, and yet just be another face in the crowd?"

Morag…had no reply. This was something she loved about Romilda, for thinking outside the box that Morag was already too busy attempting to open using logic.

She loved Romilda.

And she loved _this_. Romilda was right: It was a magic Morag hadn't yet known, despite knowing herself. And it was a magic she'd be able to share with Romilda for many more years to come.

**Author's Note:**

> WELL! :D Despite writing LGBT+ ships in the fandom, it really only occurred to me recently that I hadn't considered how any of them would celebrate Pride. :D These are real headcanons for me regarding Morag and Romilda and their sexualities; I actually haven't ever written a het ship with Morag bc it doesn't feel right, *lol*. And the Deamus was a bonus for us shippers in the fandom. XD But I actually did some research about Pride in London, mainly around 1998/1999/2000, and CURIOUSLY there was no Pride event in 1998! D: So now I have a headcanon that that was partly the aftermath of the Final Battle, *lol*. The Wizarding world bleeding into the Muggle one… :O Anyway, for a time in the early Noughties, "Pride" was held as the event "London Mardi Gras." I highly rec reading up on these things bc whoo boy what a ride. I kept things here vague and sometimes flourished bc obvo I have not been to a London Pride event, let alone back then, but I still wanted the girls to enjoy this. -w- (Almost tempting to write how tf Seamus wrangled Dean into coming to the event, too, *LOL*.) …this also gives whole new meaning to biweekly prompt, no? ;D *sry not sry for my terrible pun*
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please review!
> 
> -mew-tsubaki ;3c


End file.
